He grew up in the barren air.
In a world devoid of love and care,
Love was a stranger in his heart,
A feeling he'd not known apart.
Without the love left in the past
Accustomed to the void so vast,
A life of solitude he'd weave,
Convinced it's better not to live.
In the deep silence of his mind,
No peaceful echo he would find.
No heartache from a love that's lost,
No warmth from a love that’s frost.
For him, it seemed the only way,
To live without feeling every day.
He chose a path, alone to tread,
Without a tear life goes unsaid.
To be alone
© Copyright: Тимчасовий, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124061303425
Свидетельство о публикации №124061303425
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